


And the Children Shall Lead:  Atlas

by Cheree_Cargill



Series: Glimpses of a Life [61]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 23:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15011963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheree_Cargill/pseuds/Cheree_Cargill
Summary: Kirk is suffering from the losses on the Triacus mission and it's up to Spock and McCoy to get him through it.





	And the Children Shall Lead:  Atlas

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Cheree Cargill and is copyright (c) 2018 by Cheree Cargill. This story is Rated PG.

_Stardate:_ _5030._ _2_. _First Officer Spock recording._

 

The Captain was crying. And very drunk.

I was returning to my quarters after a second shift inspection when I halted outside his cabin, my hearing picking up unusual sounds from within. At first I could not identify them, then, alarmed, I pressed the buzzer. There was no answer and I entered anyway.

He was sitting at his desk, his face buried in his hands, sobbing brokenly, a half-empty bottle of Saurian brandy sitting on the desk beside him.

"Captain! What is wrong?" I asked, approaching him, disconcerted by this unexpected show of emotions.

For a moment I thought he would not answer then he moaned, "I murdered those men, Spock! I beamed them down into space and--" He couldn't continue and broke down again.

Quickly I stepped to the intercom and pressed the button. "Spock to Dr. McCoy."

After a few seconds, McCoy's sleepy voice answered, "Yeah… Wha' is it?"

"Needed in the Captain's cabin, Doctor. Bring your kit."

"On my way." McCoy's voice was instantly awake and he signed off.

Returning to the Captain, I sat in the chair across from him and took both of his hands in mine. "You did not kill them, Jim. You couldn't know."

"Should have known!" he insisted and tried to reach for the bottle again but I stayed his hands. "Oh, God, I killed them!"

The door to the cabin slid open and McCoy hurried in, dressed in his night clothes and a robe and slippers, clutching his medkit. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

Jim turned swollen eyes and tear-stained face up to him, pleading, and the doctor instantly ascertained the problem. "How much has he drunk?" McCoy asked of me.

"Unknown. I found him this way six minutes ago." I rose from the chair and allowed the doctor to take my place beside him.

"Jim, this isn't the answer," McCoy said softly. "It won't bring any of them back."

"I'm the Captain," Kirk insisted. "It's my 'sponsbility. Keep 'em alive and I killed 'em."

"You're in no state to talk about this right now," McCoy said gently as he rummaged in his medkit. "First thing, let's get that alcohol out of your system. I'm going to give you a detox shot and then you're going to bed and sleep this off." He pulled a syringe from the kit and fitted on a dose of detoxification serum which he then injected into Kirk's neck.

Pulling out his medical scanner, McCoy ran it over the Captain's body. Jim had become drowsy and his gaze unfocused. After five minutes, McCoy nodded. "Good. Spock, help me get him to bed."

Together we got Jim to his feet and all but carried him to his rumpled bed. We got his clothes off and settled him beneath the covers, then McCoy gave him a shot of a sedative. Jim was immediately asleep and the doctor motioned me back over to the desk where he spoke in a soft voice.

"That'll keep him out for a good eight hours. I'm taking him off duty for at least twenty‑four so you're in command until I release him. Coming so soon after Miramanee's death, finding the Triacas party dead by suicide, and then accidentally beaming Wilson and Harmon into space has caught up with him." He shook his head mournfully. "It's worse for him because he's the captain and he tries to carry the world on his shoulders. He's not a superman, although he tries to be sometimes."

I nodded in agreement and thought back to the past day. We had turned back on our route from Marcus XII toward Triacas, carefully scanning as we went and eventually we were able to recover the remains of our two lost security men. Explosive decompression is a disturbing sight and I could see that the Captain was trying very hard to maintain his composure and anger. Back in orbit around Triacas, we beamed aboard the team we had left there, but the Captain had one more duty to perform.

Ordering a tight phaser beam trained on the Gorgan's cave near where the Starnes party were buried, we melted that hillside into slag and hopefully trapped the malevolent being inside forever. Then we warped out of orbit and set course for Starbase 4.

But Jim still had the job of informing Starfleet Command about all the deaths and writing to the families of our lost crewmen. He had done this so many times before. He'd ordered men to their deaths on a number of occasions, but this time was different. Wilson and Harmon had died needlessly and Jim was blaming himself for not knowing something that he could not logically have known – that we were no longer in orbit around the planet but in warp toward Marcus XII. Even I did not understand this for we had only just broken the control that Tommy Starnes had channeled toward us via the Gorgan's power.

I returned my thought to the present and sighed softly. "Is there anything I can do for him, Doctor?"

"No. Not now. Just let him sleep and I'll check on him in the morning. I'll continue the counseling sessions with him that I've been having. He just needs to come to terms with all of this." McCoy turned his blue eyes on me and smiled a little. "He'll be okay, Spock. Jim's pretty resilient. He'll assimilate this shock and be his normal self. Just keep an ear out--" And McCoy couldn't help but pull his lips into a wider smile. "—and call me if you hear anything."

"I shall do so, Doctor," I replied, ignoring his pun. "The wall between our cabins is not very soundproof."

"Good. Well, I'm going back to bed. Goodnight, Spock." He picked up the medkit and shuffled toward the door, his slippers making a soft sound on the carpet.

"Good night, Doctor," I said as he left. I stayed for a moment longer, checking on the Captain before I went. He was deep into sleep, snoring quietly. I was tempted for a second to touch my fingers to his temple and check on his dreams, but then drew back, knowing that such a thing was a violation of Vulcan ethics. He would have to work this out for himself.

But as I turned to go back to my own quarters, I thought of McCoy's words and for a few seconds I envisioned Jim as a present-day Atlas, balancing the globe of the world on his back. I only hoped that he was strong enough to support it without being crushed. I was pretty sure that he was.

THE END

 


End file.
